


The First Rule of Fight Club … Is Don’t Fall In Love

by bluevalentine69



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur and Morgana are Twins, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Businessman Arthur, Charities, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Funny, Homeless Shelters, Humor, M/M, Rehabilitation, Social Worker Merlin, brief infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2019-10-16 07:33:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17545388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluevalentine69/pseuds/bluevalentine69
Summary: Arthur is a wealthy financier, secretly funding a homeless charity.Merlin is the hot new social worker Morgana has employed. He thinks Arthur is nothing more than her wanker banker brother, and hates him on sight.He's very certain about these feelings ... until he turns into a green-eyed monster when he sees Arthur on a date. That's not supposed to happen?





	1. Chapter 1

Arthur leant against the kitchen door and surreptitiously examined the newcomer to his sister’s weekly Friday night fondue party. There was something about him. He was scruffy and understated in some ways - messy dark hair, a crumpled black Gandhi ‘The first rule of fight club’ t-shirt (which made Arthur question whether he was a self-consciously ironic Indie tosser, or someone with an actual sense of humour), jeans, high-top converses, and a leather braid around his wrist - but his eyes flashed lightning blue when he laughed, and his sharp cheekbones and full lips _and_ _dimples, for fuck’s sake,_ were impossible to miss, and the casual way he held his tall, lean frame, somehow relaxed and yet totally confident, was oddly intriguing.

“Merlin,” Morgana, his evil twin sister whispered in his ear, following his gaze, “our newest employee at Studio X.” Arthur raised an eyebrow.

“And I’m only finding out now, why Gana?” he commented wryly. Arthur worked for their father’s hedge fund in order to financially back his and Morgana’s arts therapy charity supporting and training and rehabilitating homeless people. He was co-founder and co-owner and silent partner - silent (and secret, outside of their inner circle of friends) because if his father found out that he spent his salary and bonuses helping Morgana “waste her life in a pointless crusade; there will always be people who choose to drop out of the system, Arthur” (Uther was universally recognised to be a bona fide prick) - then he’d find himself out of the family company pretty quickly, and he and Morgana would lose their dream of using their privilege for the betterment of others’ lives, and all their clients (currently/recently/at risk of being homeless) would lose the oasis of kindness and creativity that in some cases, was their only home and reason for living. 

“Oh hush, baby brother -” (Morgana had had the good fortune to exit the womb exactly seven minutes before Arthur), “- Gaius -” (their uncle, on their dead mother’s side, and a trustee on Studio X’s board), “- said that his goddaughter’s son was moving to London and looking for work. He’s twenty-four, has a First Class degree in Experimental Psychology from Oxford, was a member of OUDS and The Oxford Imps, has taken his short plays and stand-up skits to the Edinburgh Fringe a couple of times, with success I might add, and since graduating he’s been working for The Crisis Cafe, helping the Oxford homeless come together to participate socially, encouraging their involvement in amateur dramatic productions, working on developing their confidence and skills,” Morgana finished her list of impressive facts and looked at Arthur a little smugly. “So I agreed to meet him, of course, and he’s a _babe_ , along with one of the nicest people I have ever met. Absolutely perfect for us. You will LOVE him.” She pushed Arthur into the living room with a smirk and a wicked whisper and a wink. “You can thank me later.” Arthur shook his head at her and mouthed _harpy_ , but made his way over to the corner in which Merlin was laughing with Gwen and Lance to introduce himself.

“Arthur!” Gwen exclaimed delightedly, pulling him into a warm hug. “I’m so pleased you made it this week! Gana said you’ve been worked to the bone in China for the last fortnight?” She patted him on the arm sympathetically, receiving a disbelieving snort from Merlin. Arthur blinked in surprise, dropping a kiss to Gwen’s forehead, and giving Lance a friendly back slap.

“Something funny?” he queried, bemused. Merlin’s eyes flashed in challenge, but he leant back against the table behind him nonchalantly, crossing his ankles.

“You’re Morgana’s arrogant wanker banker twin brother Arthur, right? You spend your life in the pursuit of making rich people richer. Entered the Forbes Top 100 Rich List at twenty-seven in your own right, nevermind the trust fund and Daddy’s fortune. A verifiable playboy, I’m sure, if that Rolex and £2,000 suit is anything to go by.” Merlin paused to grin, before making a sad, pouty face. “But you’ve been worked _to the bone_ in _China_ , poor diddums, where child slave labour and inhumane working conditions continue to be perpetrated by the very clients whose money and interests _you_ were presumably out there defending. It must have been _dreadful_ for you. How on earth did you manage?” Merlin fluttered his eyelashes and smiled winningly, all dimples and naked sarcasm. Gwen and Lance looked a little mortified. Arthur paused to consider him for a moment, but he eventually shrugged and smiled.

“I’m flattered you’ve spent so much time thinking about me,” he joked lightly, annoyed, but outwardly calm as always. “Merlin isn’t it?” He held out a hand which Merlin shook distastefully. “Well, welcome to the team. I hope you settle into London quickly.” He clinked his glass with Lance’s and then excused himself, sauntering off to find Gwaine. Gwen looked at Merlin curiously. Merlin gave a little half-shrug of apology.

“You know Arthur’s really not like that,” Gwen said earnestly, “I used to go out with him and he’s one of the best men I’ve ever known.” Merlin looked at her dubiously.

“He’s wearing Armani,” he pointed out flatly. Lance chuckled. 

“Honestly,” he intervened, “I used to go out with him too - he’s still my best friend. He was our best man.” Merlin did look surprised at that.

“You -“ he gestured between them, “both … with _him_!?” Gwen laughed at Merlin’s astonished face.

“Arthur left me when he realised he was gay. Lance left Arthur when he realised _he_ was straight. Arthur was nothing but wonderful to both of us.”

“Fair enough,” Merlin said agreeably, holding his hands up in peace. “Clearly he’s not all bad. I just don’t have much time for people who are so fiscally and socially selfish.” Gwen and Lance glanced at each other uncomfortably again.

“Am I missing something here?” Merlin said slowly, flushing slightly. Lance sighed and rubbed his temples.

“Er …” he glanced at Gwen, and she nodded encouragingly, “well he kind of came up with the whole concept of Studio X and founded it and funds it … he dragged Morgana in to run it for him whilst he earns the money to keep it going - it doesn’t make enough from private capital and fundraising. So it’s kind of his brainchild that you’re working for.” Merlin looked gobsmacked. And then _horrified_.

“Oh my god,” he muttered, colour draining from his face. “Why didn’t Morgana tell me? Why didn’t Gaius?”

“Arthur keeps his name out of it - if Uther found out how he spends his salary…” Gwen shudders, “… well, Arthur would be out of a job, and then so would everyone at the Studio.” Merlin faceplants into his hands.

“Oh my god,” he moans. “Shit shit _shit._ I’m an _idiot_.” Gwen rubs him on the arm soothingly.

“You weren’t to know,” she says reassuringly. Merlin shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

“I’m going to apologise right away,” he says adamantly, pointing a thumb in Arthur’s direction, “it was nice to meet you both!” He weaves his way through the crowd to the patio garden, where Arthur is having a cigarette and laughing with a bearded, handsome, floppy haired man who is clearly flirting with him. Merlin feels an irrational pang of jealousy as he takes in Arthur’s broad shoulders, strong, muscled body and legs, blonde hair, blue eyes, devastating smile, all directed at someone else.

“Hi,” Merlin says awkwardly, waving at Gwaine and ducking into their conversation. “I’ve come to say sorry,” he says, looking at Arthur directly. “I may have been … well …”

“A rude, ungrateful, judgemental bigot?” Arthur suggests. Gwaine stifles a laugh.

“Well, no, I was going to say …”

“Wrong?” Arthur asks again with a smirk, enjoying Merlin’s discomfort, and the way the tips of his ears flush red. “Unkind? Unnecessarily offensive?” Merlin glares at him.

“No need to be a prat about it, I am _clearly_ trying to eat humble pie here.”

“Aww Arthur, go easy on the fella,” Gwaine intervenes, “he’s Gana’s new protege, and she’ll bite you if you scare him off. I’m Gwaine,” he says, shaking Merlin’s hand. “I used to go out with Arthur, he’s not half as much of a prat as he pretends to be, I can assure you. He even played cupid for me and his terrifying and dangerously irresistible sister.” Merlin’s eyes widen.

“You slept with a brother _and sister_!?” he asks, scandalised. He turns to Arthur accusingly. “Is there anyone at this party you _haven’t_ slept with and then passed on to another friend or family member?” Arthur grins at him suggestively, raising his eyebrows.

“Well there’s you of course. Are you questioning my honour and my virtue now too, just after you so nicely apologised?” Merlin eye-rolled out loud.

“No, just your _sanity,_ ” he snapped back, feeling wrong-footed and defensive. “You might be some super secret Robin Hood with a hero complex and a questionable interest in matchmaking, but you are clearly a prat anyway.” Gwaine laughed deeply, and even Arthur’s mouth twitched in amusement.

“Do you find it impossible to say anything without insulting the person you’re speaking to?” he asks. Merlin opens his mouth to retort but Arthur holds up a hand, “no don’t tell me, please, spare me any further character assassination. I accept your ungracious apology and wish you well. Gwaine, can I leave you to entertain Gana’s favourite guest? I’m going to make an early exit before she brings out the piñatas, I’m tired.” He makes his second retreat from Merlin within twenty minutes, and Merlin feels strangely regretful and disappointed. Gwaine’s watching him closely, with a sly look on his face.

“He doesn’t hold grudges, don’t worry,” he says, draping an arm around Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin smiles and then his brow furrows.

“Did he say piñatas?” Gwaine laughs.

“Oh yes, a staple of the fondue party … they’re filled with flavoured condoms and lube sachets and truth or dare cards. My girlfriend and your new boss is a _genius_ , my friend,” he says, pulling Merlin back inside for another beer.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Inevitably, Merlin becomes an odd addition to Arthur’s social life. Arthur sees him when he goes into Studio X, to meet their latest clients; sleeves rolled up, strong, calm, focused, biting his lip in concentration, or explaining something with his slim fingers dancing in animated enthusiasm. Crouching down to rub the belly of the dogs some people bring in, to whisper in their ears. He sees him flushed and tipsy at the pub after work, with Gana and Gwen and Elena and Freya, all of his friends now working for his charity, relaxed and funny, making everyone laugh. He sees him at the fondue parties, grinning wickedly as he hits a piñata especially hard and sweeps up the condom and lube loot with a wink. He can’t help watching him, the softness on his face when he’s pleased, or proud, the shadows under his eyes when he’s tired. But he can’t for the life of him find a way to get _on_ with Merlin. After their first altercation they’d been polite, cautious with each other, and everything was fine until a Thursday evening at the pub.

“I saw your article,” Merlin says, standing beside him at the bar - “pint of bitter, please mate” he asks the barman. Arthur had been interviewed a few weeks back for _Business Insider_ magazine about how to ride the waves of the stock market as Britain’s most eligible young businessman.

“You think I’m a prat, I know,” Arthur says wearily, taking a glug of his beer. Merlin hands over a fiver and turns around to lean on the bar and look at Arthur consideringly.

“I think you were a prat in that article, yes,” Merlin says unflinchingly. Arthur shakes his head and returns Merlin’s gaze.

“I’m shocked,” he says drily. Merlin huffs impatiently.

“Arthur, I’m disappointed because sometimes you’re really _not_ a prat. But you have people interested in what you have to say, why don’t you ever use that platform to talk about the charity? Or about social inequality and the need to change our benefit and social welfare systems? You could bring publicity to important causes. You could lobby the government. Instead you wear a nice suit and flirt with the interviewer and talk about the god of capitalism and commercialism and consumerism and it’s all a bit sickening for anyone who knows _there’s more to you_.” Merlin looks at him intensely and Arthur keeps his demeanour neutral, his features impassive.

“I do what I can to make things better. I need to be a businessman to do that. Being considered a prat is a sacrifice I’m prepared to make.”

“That’s bullshit,” Merlin challenges him, “with the skills and the knowledge and the contacts you have you could work full-time for the charity generating investment and fundraising to cover its costs. You’re either scared of your father, or more like him than you pretend to be. I think you enjoy the high life.” Arthur pushes away from the bar angrily, the first time Merlin’s really seen him ruffled.

“For christ’s sake,” he mutters, finishing his pint. “Not that it’s any of your business,” he grits out in an angry undertone, leaning close to Merlin’s face, “but perhaps I’m _not_ ready to destroy my relationship with my father. Your dad left when you were a baby, yes?” Merlin narrows his eyes.

“What the _hell_ has that got to do with anything?” he asks crossly.

“So your mum is the only parent you had, that’s what. If she threatened to disown you for going against her and everything she believes in, everything she’s spent her life building, leaving you parentless, would you throw her away so easily? Does she matter to you that little? Would you orphan yourself for the sake of your high and mighty principles, knowing you’ll lose your only family?” Merlin’s face falls and he drops his gaze. “Well?” Arthur demands.

“No,” Merlin says quietly.

“No, exactly,” Arthur returns waspishly. “Well Uther’s not just _my_ only parent, he’s Gana’s, and as much as she hates him she needs him too. I negotiate the relationship between them. I’m the bridge that keeps the lines of communication open. I have a responsibility to look after her interests as well. If I use my position at Albion Investments to publicise my _personal interests_ and not my _professional_ _opinions_ , then I’m out. And once I’m out, the money’s gone. My father will make sure I’m persona non grata in the city, no-one will ever interview me again, let alone invest in my charity. Stop being so naive. You hate me, Merlin? I can live with that. I couldn’t live with myself if my sister lost her dad and over three hundred homeless people a year lost their chance for a better future. I’m not interested in being attacked by you anymore, back off.” He’d slammed his glass down on the bar and walked out, leaving a trail of gobsmacked faces and raised eyebrows behind him. And since then, he and Merlin have been nothing but civil to each other. They make awkward polite conversation, both desperately trying to avoid another argument. Arthur bleeds a little inside, because no-one in his inner circle has ever disliked him so much before. And every time Merlin smiles his blinding, face-splitting beam, his heart hurts, and he wonders how differently things could have been. 

* 

Five months after they first meet, they’re at Morgana’s again, at her Halloween Party. Gwaine is a swashbuckling pirate, Morgana is Catwoman, Leon is a knight, Gwen and Lance are a witch and wizard, Merlin is a vampire, and Arthur, Merlin thinks, is a Greek or Roman god, or a gladiator, if the skimpy tunic barely skimming his muscled, tanned thighs and crown of gold leaves and leather sandals are anything to go by. He watches from the shadow of the hallway as he slides an arm around his date, Mordred, a fey, curly-haired beauty who seems to be dressed as a fawn. He’s gazing at Arthur adoringly as Arthur mouths kisses at his neck and caresses his bare torso and Merlin feels bile rise up in his throat. He forces himself down the hall and stumbles into the garden, where it’s raining and cold, and he bangs his head against the brick wall miserably. He stays pressed against the wall, breathing deeply, trying to work out how the fuck he got himself into this mess. 

*

Merlin excuses himself from social events for a while, not wanting to see Arthur all over Mordred. But it’s Gwaine’s 30th birthday in late November and he’s organised a long weekend away for his friends in the Lake District, to stay in little cabins in the woods around a lake, and spend the days outdoors, hiking, canoeing, their evenings around pub fires. Merlin can hardly refuse. He drives up on the Friday with Freya and Will and Elyan, Gwen’s brother, staring out of the window and willing the weekend to pass quickly. They arrive at 3pm, and Gwaine meets them at the lodge.

“Hello travellers! Welcome to Camelot! We’re all unpacking at the moment, come on.” He drops off Freya and Will at Cabin 2, Elyan at Cabin 4, where he’ll be sharing with Percy, he and Morgana are in Cabin 1, Gwen and Lance in Cabin 3, and Leon and Elena in Cabin 6. “You and Arthur are the only singles here, so you’re with him in 5 Merls.” Merlin feels the bottom drop out of his stomach. _You’ve got to be fucking kidding me_ he thinks. But suddenly Gwaine is swinging open the door, and there’s Arthur in an open-plan room with two single beds, a sofa, and a kitchen area, standing by the kettle. He looks relaxed in socks and jeans and a soft woollen jumper and he glances at Merlin cautiously. “Play nice boys,” Gwaine says cheerfully, “we’re meeting at the lodge at 6pm to go to The Rising Sun for supper and a few drinks and maybe some cards,” and he’s off. Merlin stands in the doorway stupidly for a moment before shuffling in and closing the door. He closes his eyes, praying for strength.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Arthur says behind him. It’s not a question.

“I’ve been busy,” Merlin says, moving to the bed area to drop his backpack and toe off his shoes. “What happened to Mordred?” He keeps his gaze on the floor as he stands and turns to find Arthur directly behind him, a conflicted expression on his face.

“I thought he deserved better than me,” Arthur says, watching Merlin closely. “I couldn’t stop thinking about someone else.” Merlin’s breath catches in his throat as he finally meets Arthur’s eye.

“Arthur -” he chokes out, and then Arthur’s lips are on his, one hand at his lower back, holding him close, one hand tenderly cupping his face. Merlin moans as Arthur’s tongue licks into his mouth, and he opens up for Arthur, presses his tongue back, presses his body closer, hands in Arthur’s hair, gripping his jumper. He feels shaky and hot as Arthur crowds him back against the wall of the cabin, kissing along his jawline, biting his ear, sucking bruises into his neck. His head falls back and his body arches as he gives himself over to Arthur, lets Arthur unbutton his shirt, kiss down his chest, fingers rubbing his nipples, licking down his belly, following his happy trail. Arthur drops to his knees and unzips Merlin’s jeans, peeling them off with his boxers so that he’s standing naked against the wall, dazed, eyes glazed as he watches Arthur take his cock into his mouth and swallow him whole. He sinks against the wall and closes his eyes as he feels Arthur’s tongue laving at his head, the underside of his cock, and jolts when Arthur’s strong, stroking fingers find his hole, press lightly against it. Merlin can’t breathe, he aches with need, and he threads his fingers into Arthur’s hair as Arthur rips open a lube sachet, coats his fingers, and then presses two into Merlin without preamble. Merlin gasps in pain and bites his lip - it’s been two years since he broke up with Gilli and he hasn’t been with anyone since then, he’s not one for casual relationships, it’s always all or nothing for him. “Arthur,” he warns, wincing, “go slow, it’s been a while.” Arthur looks up and him and withdraws his fingers, pulling Merlin down into his lap, circling an arm around him and kissing him gently again.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I should have asked first. We don’t have to do that. What do you want?” Merlin melts a bit and drops his head to Arthur’s shoulder, fingers stroking up his spine.

“I do want it, just - ” he looks at Arthur imploringly. Arthur kisses him and smiles.

“I’ll be more careful,” he promises, and lays Merlin on his back, kissing his belly, his thighs, his cock, as he slides one finger inside Merlin this time, gently rubbing inside him, tickling his prostate, opening him slowly. Merlin is writhing beneath him, arching every time his prostate is brushed, legs splayed open, and Arthur drinks in the sight of him, his flushed, trembling body, wonders at his responsiveness, as he adds another finger, and then another. When Merlin is pliant and limp with pleasure Arthur rolls on a condom and lines up his cock with Merlin’s entrance. Merlin’s eyes fly open and he and Arthur hold each other’s gaze as Arthur presses inside slowly, watching the discomfort on Merlin’s face, the surrender. He pulls Merlin’s arms above his head and interlaces their fingers, caressing his hands, kissing him, as he starts to stroke in and out, slow but forceful, and soon Merlin closes his eyes and wraps his legs around Arthur’s waist and loses himself to Arthur’s rhythm as Arthur takes him, possesses him. He’s boneless when Arthur’s pace quickens, and Arthur strokes his cock until he’s spasming hot come across his chest, eyes blown wide, and then Arthur is grunting as he comes inside him, face pressed into Merlin’s neck. They lie there panting, sticky, sweaty for a few moments, breathing into each other’s skin, until Arthur withdraws, pulls off his condom and ties it, rolling to lie on his back. Merlin stays still on the floor beside him. He can hear the clock on the wall ticking and grows cold at the realisation that he’s just been fucked by Arthur, who doesn’t even _like_ him. He shifts uncomfortably, sitting up to find his shirt and wiping his belly. He looks down at Arthur, watching him carefully.

“What is this?” he asks, slowly, fidgeting with his shirt. Arthur sighs and sits up, leaning back against the bed, knees wide. Merlin can’t help but stare at his naked body. “Could you …” he waves at Arthur’s private parts and Arthur rolls his eyes and reaches for the pillow, holding it to his body to cover his crotch. “You’re sleeping on that pillow,” Merlin says categorically, and Arthur almost smiles. Merlin smacks his leg. “Arthur! For god’s sake, you can’t ignore me every time you see me and parade around your latest lover in front of me and then suddenly accost me without an explanation!” Arthur rubs his face and shrugs.

“It felt like something we needed to get out of our systems,” he says simply. Merlin feels like he’s going to be sick. It meant nothing.

“What?” he asks faintly.

“You’ve never liked, me, I know,” Arthur says, looking at his knees. “But I’ve felt - ” he cuts himself off with a frustrated sound. “Well, it doesn’t matter what I’ve felt. I’ve wanted to do that since I met you,” he shrugs. “You didn’t like seeing me with Mordred, so I thought maybe you wanted it too. To end whatever this weird tension is between us.” Arthur smiles a little sadly. “Now you can go back to hating me without wanting to fuck me. We can both move on.” Merlin blinks back tears and sucks in a long breath.

“I don’t hate you Arthur,” he says eventually, standing up and heading to the shower.

*

The rest of the evening is strange, for both of them. By the time Merlin’s out of the shower Arthur has left the cabin, and they sit as far away from each other as possible at the pub. They undress silently and climb into their separate single beds, lights out, and Merlin curls into a ball, back turned to Arthur, staring into the darkness and contemplating the confusion and horrible emptiness he feels. Suddenly the bed dips behind him.

“What -?“ he murmurs, instinctively moving away, but Arthur locks an arm around him and kisses his neck.

“Shhh,” he whispers, “let me, please.” Merlin complies silently whilst Arthur strips off his t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, naked himself, allows Arthur to turn him to his side, fit his body against him, chest to back, legs intertwined, arm under Merlin’s head, to move his knee up to expose his hole, press two slicked up fingers inside of him as he lazily kisses Merlin, kisses his eyelids, his temples, rocking against him until he presses himself inside of him, locking their bodies together, fingers gripping Merlin’s, pressing bruises into his hipbones, bodies melting into one thing in Merlin’s narrow single bed, and Merlin knows this is dangerous, but he feels lost in Arthur as Arthur moves inside him, kissing him gently. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, caressing Merlin’s belly, _so lovely, so gorgeous, so perfect for me_. Merlin lets the compliments wash over him, warming him, and all he can whisper back is _Arthur, Arthur, god I need you, Arthur_. They’re entwined for what seems like hours, until Arthur comes hot and wet, come filling Merlin’s hole, and then Merlin is coming into the sheets, Arthur’s wet mouth whispering into his ear as he comes. They stay locked together, breathing slowly, Arthur kissing Merlin’s neck.

“We didn’t use protection,” Merlin whispers. Arthur squeezes him and nuzzles into his neck.

“I’m clean. I trust you.” Merlin wants to cry again.

“I trust you too,” he mumbles. Arthur strokes his chest, stomach, legs, quietly exploring his body, and Merlin kisses the arm beneath his head, leaning back into Arthur’s body. Arthur’s fingers suddenly stop moving.

“I don’t hate you either, you know,” he murmurs softly, and Merlin twists in his arms, arms wrapping round Arthur’s body, head on his chest, leg pushing between his legs.

“Good,” he says, “then we’re agreed that neither of us hates each other.” Arthur kisses his head.

“What do you want from this Merlin?” he asks quietly. Merlin blinks into his warm chest for a while until he rolls away, leaning to the side table to switch on the light. Arthur turns to his side and props himself up on an elbow, kissing Merlin as he falls back into the pillows.

“Can we start again?” Merlin asks, fingers cradling Arthur’s face. “I think it could go very differently second time round.” Arthur grins at him softly, and kisses him on the lips.

“I’m Arthur,” he says, kissing Merlin’s forehead, “apparently you’re our new employee?” Merlin wriggles beneath him, twisting his fingers into Arthur’s hair and smiling uncontrollably.

“Oh hello Arthur,” he smirks, kissing Arthur’s chin, “apparently you’re Morgana’s dollophead twin brother?” Arthur’s eyes widen.

“Did you just say _dollophead_?” he asks incredulously, sliding a hand down to tickle Merlin’s sides. Merlin squawks and giggles, curling into Arthur.

“Yes I’m very good at insulting people,” he laughs, arching into Arthur’s touch and wrapping both arms around him, bodies pressed together face to face this time. “I’ve also heard that you’re a bit of a clotpole.”

“Clotpole?” Arthur repeats, eyebrows raised, kissing Merlin’s nose. Merlin nods enthusiastically, smiling wildly. Arthur rolls on top of him. “Shut up, _Mer_ lin _,_ ” he commands bossily, pressing him back into the pillows as he starts grinding against him again.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning they wake up smiling dopily at each other. They shower together, laughing and tickling, they make coffee and toast and consume it naked, Merlin in Arthur’s lap, they get dressed and Arthur takes Merlin’s hand, squeezing it softly as they approach the group of people waiting for them at the lodge.

“Oh, thank god!” Morgana exclaims, seeing the intertwined fingers, “you finally fucked! Leon you owe me £50.”

“I think you’ll find you owe _me_ £50 actually sexy boots,” Gwaine says triumphantly, “I bet first night.”

“Yes but _I_ told Arthur he needed to dump Mordred and get his head out of his arse before it was too late.”

“I arranged the cabin shares,” Freya pipes up, “surely that means it’s my £50?” … Arthur glances at Merlin.

“You guys made _bets_ on us getting together?” he asks incredulously. Morgana laughs.

“Aww baby brother, of course we did. I knew as soon as I met Merlin that you’d fancy the pants off him, he’s just your type.” Merlin gapes at her.

“I feel so special,” he huffs, looking at Arthur askance, “just one of many, apparently.”

“Are you trying to end this before it’s started Gana?” Arthur says in exasperation, pulling Merlin close to him. “We’ve finally got our shit together and you’re sabotaging us already!” Morgana puts her hands up and mimes zipping her lips.

“Don’t listen to her sweetheart,” Arthur says, and Merlin blinks up at him with a look of horror and consternation.

“Please never call me that again,” he pleads desperately, and Freya bursts out laughing, Will shaking his head with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You guys are a.d.o.r.a.b.l.e,” he enunciates slowly, earning himself a glare from Merlin. “Can we get to the paint balling now? I need to destroy Gwaine and we’re under strict instructions to ensure he is fully inebriated before nightfall.”

*

Their relationship isn’t easy. Arthur works long hours and has to attend events that Merlin disapproves of. He refuses to introduce Merlin to Uther because he knows Uther will be vile to him, but Merlin sees it as a slight, and it’s an area of hurt they tiptoe around, especially as Merlin’s mother Hunith has embraced Arthur into their family, instantly welcoming him like a second son. Merlin struggles with jealously and insecurity - Arthur’s slept with most of their social group, he slept with Mordred even after he knew he fancied Merlin; Arthur argues that it’s all in the past, that Mordred was a distraction because he thought Merlin didn’t like him, let alone _want_ him in that way, that Merlin should concentrate on the present, their future together. They argue constantly, stop speaking for days, sometimes, and then one of them surrenders, murmuring apologies, and they push into each other’s bodies, reclaiming, making love, whispering endearments and promises into each other’s skin.

“I love you so much,” Arthur whispers after their latest argument - he has to go to New York for two weeks with a day’s notice - “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you Merls.” Merlin traces the sincerity in his face with his fingers and kisses the corner of his mouth softly.

“I’m in love with you too,” he murmurs, snuggling into Arthur’s chest. “I love you with my whole heart Arthur. It terrifies me.” Arthur lifts his chin to meet his gaze.

“Then trust me,” he pleads quietly. “I know you hate my job, but trust me not to hurt you. I’m trying to be the man you want me to be.” Merlin grips his face fiercely.

“You _are_ the man I want you to be,” he says angrily, “you just keep selling yourself short for your bloody father.” Arthur closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of Merlin.

“I don’t want to fight again,” he says tiredly, “I leave in a few hours. Can we just enjoy being together? Please?” Merlin acquiesces and he and Arthur make love slowly, reverently, needily, until Arthur’s car arrives to take him to the airport. Merlin sits in one of Arthur’s rugby sweaters, knees pulled to his chest, as Arthur moves around his room getting ready. He turns to kiss Merlin on the head before he leaves. “Move in with me?” he asks, sitting beside Merlin, and pulling him close. “I want you here, even when I’m not.” Merlin looks sad, but he nods, eyes filling, pulling Arthur to him like a drowning man in need of oxygen.

“Okay,” he says, gripping Arthur tightly, “I’ll give notice to my landlord.”

*

Merlin calls Arthur at two in the morning, shivering in the alley behind a nightclub, ready to vomit.

“Hi,” Arthur croaks out sleepily, “Merls? It’s the middle of the night, are you okay?” Merlin can’t speak, he just sobs into the phone. “Merlin?” Arthur asks again, sounding more alert now. “What’s happened? Are you hurt? Where are you?” Merlin keeps crying.

“I kissed someone,” he says, barely able to breathe. “I went out with Gwaine and Will and Leon for a lads’ night. Some guy started kissing me on the dance floor and I kissed him back.” There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Arthur?” Merlin whispers, terrified.

“Why are you telling me?” Arthur asks coldly. Merlin’s heart freezes.

“I missed you. And I was angry with you for leaving me, again, because your father told you to. But I never meant to -” Merlin breaks off and starts sobbing again. “It was a mistake,” he cries softly, “I feel sick with myself. You have to forgive me Arthur. I just wish,” he stops again, wiping his face on his sleeve. “I just wish you were here,” he finishes quietly. He can hear Arthur breathing on the other end of the line.

“Go home, Merlin,” Arthur says eventually. “We’ll talk when I get back.” He hangs up and Merlin cries into his knees until he’s stiff and exhausted and then he texts Gwaine that he’s gone home, and finds himself a taxi.

*

Merlin’s waiting for him on the sofa when he gets home. He looks up and smiles cautiously.

“I missed you,” he says immediately, patting the seat next to him. “I made bolognese, if you’re hungry?” Arthur takes off his jacket and shoes, and moves to sit beside his boyfriend. Merlin cuddles up to him. “I’m so sorry,” he says, fingers sliding underneath Arthur’s shirt. “I love you Arthur. I promise I’ll never, ever do that again, no matter how angry I am with you.” Arthur doesn’t move to touch him, just keeps his arms crossed, staring ahead of him.

“Do you think we’re unhappy more than we’re happy?” he asks at last.

“No,” Merlin says, shaking his head emphatically, and turning Arthur’s face to look at him. “Arthur, no.”

“Well I think we are,” Arthur says looking pained, face crumpling.

“Arthur, _no_ ,” Merlin says, moving until he’s basically in Arthur’s lap, shaking with emotion. “We’re not breaking up. Don’t do this.”

“You cheated on me because you’re so angry with me,” Arthur says, stroking Merlin’s back. “We argue all the time. You can’t stand what I do for a living, who my father is. I hope that one day all that will change, but it’s not going to happen quickly. And in the meantime it’s destroying both of us.”

“Arthur, NO,” Merlin repeats, appalled, “We argue, yes, this is who we are. But there is nothing in this world that’s more important to me than you are, or anything I believe in more than I believe in you.” Arthur closes his eyes as a tear falls. “Arthur,” Merlin whispers, “I’m not going anywhere. I refuse. We _will_ make this work. I know we will.” Arthur kisses Merlin’s face, every bit of skin, grasping him to his chest and stroking his back until they both stop shaking.

*

That night Merlin is on his hands and knees as Arthur fucks him, brutally gripping his hips as he thrusts in and out, hard, relentless. Merlin hangs his head between his arms, gritting his teeth against the pain, taking it as punishment. “I’m close,” Arthur says, and Merlin takes it as his cue to fist himself to completion, knowing that Arthur’s not in the mood to take care of him tonight. They come and collapse into a pile, tired and vulnerable, lying together in silence until sleep takes them. Merlin feels Arthur kissing the base of his neck as he drifts off.

He wakes up a few hours later, it’s still dark, and he feels Arthur tense behind him. “Are you awake?” he whispers.

“Yes,” Arthur whispers back.

“Do you forgive me?” he asks. Arthur sighs.

“ _Yes_ ,” he replies softly, holding him close.

“Do you still love me?” he asks, heart beating uncomfortably.

“Of course I do,” Arthur says in his trademark _you’re an idiot_ voice.

“Do you still want me?” Merlin asks, holding his breath now.

“ _Yes_ ,” Arthur breathes out, pressing his hard cock against Merlin’s arse. Merlin reaches a hand back and guides Arthur inside him, sighing as he bottom’s out.

“Make me come, Arthur. Make love to me. Make me yours again.” Arthur loses himself in Merlin’s body, incapable of resisting him, ignoring the alarm bells that have been sounding in his brain for the past week.


	4. Chapter 4

_Take your clothes off_ , Arthur demands in the doorway to Merlin’s office, watching as Merlin scrambles to comply. _Lie on your belly on the floor … god, you look beautiful spread out for me … are you ready … ngh … Jesus you feel amazing … I’ve missed your body … shhh, be quiet, Gana will hear us … you’re mine, Merlin, do you hear me? Mine … no, there’s no-one else … I’m yours … I love you … ah, god I love you … I’m going to fill you up … that’s it sweetheart, come for me, come hard … baby, love, shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay … roll over, I want to lick you clean … get dressed … I’ll see you at home later._

*

Arthur sucks Merlin languidly, lying between his bare thighs, enjoying his moans of pleasure. He drinks him up when he comes, nuzzling his legs. “Marry me?” he whispers into his soft skin, his dark pubic hair, a year into their relationship, eighteen months after their first meeting. Merlin smiles down at him.

“What took you so long?” he jokes, squeezing his legs around Arthur’s neck. Arthur burrows into his arse and begins sucking his hole in retaliation.

“Is that a yes?” Arthur smirks, blowing against the tight, pink, puckered muscle.

“Yes, prat,” Merlin retorts, head thumping the sofa cushions. “Fuck me,” he whispers urgently, “I need you inside me.”

*

Merlin’s drinking champagne on the sofa with Gwen at Morgana’s flat, making wedding plans. Arthur watches him from the kitchen, taking a breath as he gets another whisky.

“Is everything okay brother?” Morgana asks, sidling up beside him on the kitchen counter. Arthur shrugs, and drinks. “Arthur,” she whispers, taking his hand. “You’re not happy. You just got engaged and you’re not happy.” Arthur feels tears welling and looks down, wiping a hand across his face. Morgana pulls him into a tight hug, stroking his back. He holds her tightly, willing the knot of unease that’s been sitting in his belly for the last six months away.

“I love him,” he says.

“I know,” Morgana replies gently. “And he loves you.”

“It always feels like we’re about to fall apart. Every time I go away on business. Every time I get home at 2am after another client event.”

“Did you propose to him because you want to spend the rest of your life with him, or because you don’t want to lose him?”

“Both,” Arthur replies honestly. Morgana looks at him sympathetically.

“Maybe it’s time to leave Albion, Arthur.” He looks up at her in surprise.

“What? We need the money, Morgana, you know that.”

“Don’t ‘Morgana’ me,” she says sternly, poking him in the chest, “we don’t anymore. We’ve got enough private funding to manage. You could do independent trading or consultancy to make up the difference if we ever need it.”

“What about dad?”

“Screw him,” she says dismissively. “If he genuinely disowns you for walking away, he’s no father anyway. Don’t let him ruin your happiness. You need to put yourself first for once. You need to put Merlin first. You both deserve that. Don’t risk a relationship that matters for one that is nothing but a source of misery.” Arthur nods slowly.

“I know I can’t carry on like I have been,” he admits. “I can’t bear to see the disappointment and resignation on Merlin’s face every day. It’s killing me. Us.”

“I know,” Morgana says, “it’s going to be okay, Arthur, I promise.” Arthur hugs her close, and prays for strength.

 *

When they get home later Arthur undresses quickly and climbs into bed naked, desperately tired. A few minutes later Merlin slides in behind him and wraps his arms around him, kissing his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly. Arthur shakes his head.

“No,” he replies honestly, “but I will be. I had a good talk with Gana.” Merlin strokes his back, his arms.

“Can you tell me about it?” Arthur moves away from Merlin and turns to face him.

“I’m going to resign in the morning.” Merlin’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, and he can’t help the delighted grin spreading across his face.

“Arthur!” he exclaims, “That’s brilliant! Will you come and takeover as Managing Partner at Studio X now?”

“Probably,” Arthur says tiredly. “I’ll need to iron out the details of how exactly I’ll be involved, but yes.” Merlin moves closer to him again, lightly brushing his fingers across Arthur’s face.

“I know it’s a huge step,” he says sincerely, “and I know I’ve never been that supportive of your job, or a fan of your dad, but I know how hard this decision must have been for you, and I’m so proud of you for making it.” Arthur nods and pulls Merlin to him.

“I haven’t been fair to you,” Arthur says, stroking Merlin’s lower back, skating his fingers over his bottom, his thighs. “I’ve never prioritised our needs over the needs of the Studio, over the commitment I have to the charity, to Gana. It’s our turn now, I promise. I’m all yours. I don’t want to fight anymore. I love you, and we can’t continue as we have been.”

“Oh Arthur,” Merlin says, eyes wet, kissing Arthur gently, “I love you too. You know I only get angry because I know you deserve better. This is the beginning of a new chapter, I can feel it.” Arthur smiles and kisses Merlin’s face, his neck, his collarbone. He reaches over to the bedside table and extracts a bottle of lube, handing it to Merlin, wrapping his legs around him. Merlin pauses to kiss Arthur with his whole body, pressing love into him, and while his tongue is caressing Arthur’s he slicks up his fingers and presses them inside Arthur’s tight heat. Arthur groans and rolls onto his back, letting his legs fall wide. Merlin settles between them, kissing Arthur’s belly, lightly sucking the tip of his cock, licking away the beads of pre-come, curling his fingers inside Arthur’s body until he gasps and arches. Merlin grins and slicks himself up, moving to lie on top of Arthur, cradling his head between his arms, and then he pushes in in one slow, strong stroke. If Arthur’s eyes are wet neither of them mentions it as Merlin moves inside him, rocking into his body, kissing his face tenderly. _I love you_ he whispers, _I can’t wait to be your husband_ , _I’m so proud of you_ , _everything will be okay_. Arthur clings to Merlin, tears falling freely as Merlin makes love to him, terrified that he might have lost this, might have sacrificed this for his relationship with his father, and he whispers apologies into Merlin’s neck, foot stroking Merlin’s calf, and Merlin holds him through it, smiling, happy, supportive, his rock. When Arthur comes Merlin bites his neck gently, fucks him through it, and then he’s releasing himself deep inside Arthur, pulsing into him passionately. Once he’s pulled out he pulls Arthur to lie between his legs, head on his chest, and cradles him.

“Think of all the free time we’ll have,” he says into Arthur’s hair. “There are _no_ excuses now for not making me breakfast in the morning.” Arthur smiles.

“Demanding,” he comments lightly.

“Oh I think you’ve got some making up to do,” Merlin counters. “I’ll expect croissants, bacon and eggs, fresh coffee, hand squeezed orange juice.”

“Delusional,” Arthur says.

“And then definitely morning blow jobs,” Merlin continues unperturbed. “We can actually go on dates in the evening too! Theatre, cinema, fancy restaurants, acro yoga -”

“Not a chance,” Arthur says, shaking his head, “you’re the clumsiest person I’ve ever met, you’d fall on top of me and break my nose.”

“You’re so vain,” Merlin chides him, “and anyway, if you’re the base in this scenario, then it’s up to you not to drop me!”

“Can’t we just have lots of sex?” Arthur asks plaintively.

“That’s already given,” Merlin replies amiably, stroking Arthur’s hair, “you owe me _so_ many massages.”

“So much for having any time to myself,” Arthur grumbles, but he’s smiling, kissing Merlin’s chest, and holding him tightly. Merlin grins into his hair.

“I’m happy,” Merlin whispers, and Arthur aches that they’ve been unhappy for so long, but feels satisfied that they’ve got the rest of their lives to make up for it.

“I’m happy too,” he says, and Merlin tilts his chin up so they can kiss, slowly, softly, enjoying being close, warm, wrapped in each other, intimate in a way they haven’t been for a long time, just taking pleasure from tongues and lips and fingers, giggling into each other’s mouths. Arthur suddenly feels the knot disappear and sits up, pulling Merlin with him. “I think we should celebrate with cheese toasties,” he says seriously. Merlin makes heart-shaped eyes at him and claps his hands together, bouncing on the bed slightly.

“And Teen Wolf,” he says, “and hot chocolate. We need hot chocolate.”

“You’re engaged _Mer_ lin,” Arthur chastises him, “you’re not supposed to ogle other men anymore.”

“Psht,” Merlin huffs comfortably, “like you don’t have a boner for Isaac.”

“I most certainly do not!” Arthur protests, offended, leaning over Merlin predatorily. Merlin raises his eyebrows, and shifts his hips up to meet Arthur’s, rubbing himself against Arthur like an affectionate cat. “Fine, I think he’s hot,” Arthur says relenting, before he gets distracted by Merlin’s naughty grin and wandering hands. “Come on,” he says, dragging him out of bed and into the kitchen naked, “you do the hot chocolate, I’ll do the toasties.”

*

Uther hits the roof, as expected. He threatens to bring down the heavens on Arthur. Arthur finds he minds a lot less than he thought he would when it means he gets to roll around on the floor with Merlin at 6pm, kissing his feet, his ankles, his knees, making him blush and laugh delightedly; not when he can spend his evenings eating steak off Merlin’s fork in little French bistros, and licking chocolate mousse out of his mouth; not when he can spend his Sundays pouring hot oil over his lover’s lithe, supple body, easing out the tension, pressing kisses into all the dips and curves of his spine, sliding against each other breathlessly, relaxing afterwards in warm, soapy baths, instead of being in the waiting room of an airport, ready to board his next flight to wherever Merlin isn’t. They’re both high on each other, glowing with happiness, and Arthur feels fit to burst, and like he’s the luckiest man in the world.

 


	5. And they all lived happily ever after

He wakes up on a grey, drizzly January morning to find his husband curled against him, warm, breathing softly. He can’t help but smile, kiss his eyelids, his shoulder, rolling out of bed carefully, so as not to wake him. He pulls on joggers and a t-shirt and pads into the kitchen to make coffee, glancing down at his left hand, the new gold band glinting on his finger. As the water boils he feels Merlin watching him from the door to the bedroom and turns to look at him. He’s leaning naked against the door frame, messy haired, relaxed and confident as he had been the first time Arthur saw him. Except now he’s looking at Arthur adoringly, fiercely loving, not disdainfully like he had the first time they’d met.

“Come back to bed,” Merlin said.

“I’m making you coffee,” Arthur replied, pointing at the filter machine, “as per your request and my promise.” Merlin raised an eyebrow.

“Morning sex takes priority,” he countered, turning around and walking back into the bedroom. Arthur sighed and followed him in, stripping off as he went. He crawled into their sheets and behind Merlin, parting his arse cheeks and rubbing two fingers against his still-loose hole, biting Merlin’s shoulder.

“Have I mentioned recently how demanding you are?” he asked as he rolled Merlin on to his belly, poured lube over his hole, his cock, and pushed straight in. Merlin gasped, resting his head on his arms and widening his legs, shifting one up beside his belly to give Arthur better access, raising his arse for Arthur to slide deeper. Arthur slammed back into him, pressing his full body weight against Merlin’s back, pinning him to the mattress.

“Kiss me,” Merlin commanded and Arthur smiled against his neck and licked a stripe up to his ear, licked into his willing mouth, thrusting into his tight heat, moving his left hand alongside Merlin’s left arm and sliding it down until their hands were interlocked, their rings clinking together. “Anyone would think you had a marriage fetish,” Merlin gasped as Arthur milked his prostate, struggling for breath beneath him. He was rolling on a wave of mindless pleasure, on the brink of being too much, desperate to be touched. He tried to slide his own hand underneath himself but found it captured and raised above his head as Arthur ploughed him. Merlin groaned and squirmed, trying to rub himself against the sheets, to get any kind of friction. Arthur huffed a laugh.

“Oh no, baby, you’re coming from my cock alone,” he said amused, fucking into Merlin’s heat languidly.

“Touch me, please,” Merlin whispered, close to crying in frustration when Arthur simply licked into his sensitive ears in response, continuing to make love to him. “Arthur, please,  _God_ , I need to come, Arthur,  _nnghh, _nghh_ , _nghh_ , _nghh_ , nnnghhh, _fuck, that’s it, harder Arthur, just there,  _nnngggghhhh_ , oh my God, I love you, yes, fuck, yes,  _nnngggghhhh,_ YEEESSS!!! Oh motherfucking Jesus, yes, yes, yes, yes ….” Arthur fucked him through his orgasm laughing, before tipping over the edge himself, filling Merlin with his semen. Merlin lay panting beneath him, limp and useless.

“Coffee, my Lord?” he enquired, kissing Merlin’s cheek and peeling himself away, walking back into the kitchen to make breakfast. He took a quick glance at their alarm clock. 6.45am. They still had more than an hour before they needed to leave for work. Plenty of time to feed Merlin toast and suck him back to life in the shower.

“Remember my mum’s arriving at 7,” Merlin said as Arthur dropped to his knees in the shower to nuzzle Merlin’s half-interested penis. “She’s - ah -” Merlin pushed into Arthur’s mouth and threaded his hands into his hair, “- staying until Sunday now, too, to spend more time with us - aaah, baby, your mouth, Arthur, god … can we take her to that posh fish place?” Arthur nodded around Merlin’s cock, eyes closed, enjoying the musky scent of his husband, loving having his mouth, throat filled, hot water splashing down his back, Merlin caressing his jaw. This morning though he pulled off before Merlin could come, lifting him up, Merlin’s legs automatically wrapping around him, feet resting on the inbuilt shelf, and pushed inside his body, letting his forehead fall against Merlin’s, Merlin’s arms around his neck. They watched each other as Arthur fucked Merlin hard into the tiles, until Merlin’s forehead dropped to Arthur’s chest and he dropped one of his legs to the floor for stability as he arched his release into Arthur’s chest. Arthur withdrew and pushed Merlin to his knees, fisting himself until he came all over Merlin’s face, into his hair. Arthur nearly came again at the sight of Merlin dripping with his come, licking it from where it dripped to his lips. Arthur pulled him to stand and licked himself out of Merlin’s mouth, and they held each other close, heads buried in each other’s necks, as the hot water cleansed them, until Arthur reluctantly moved away to get the soap and sponge and proceeded to start stroking it over Merlin’s arms, his neck, his chest, spine, down between his thighs, into his arse. Merlin watched him with a soft, reverent face, and Arthur knew he’d do anything in the world to keep that devotion directed at him.

 

*

The End  
  



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